Chapter 4 - The Brother Who Came Back
Adrian's younger brother arrived the following afternoon.
Vincent Mercer stepped out of a black Mercedes wearing a tailored navy suit and a smile that seemed permanently attached to his face.
He was thirty-seven, handsome, charming, and considerably more sociable than Adrian.
The staff adored him.
The business partners trusted him.
Claire didn't.
She couldn't explain why.
But the moment Vincent entered the mansion, Lily stopped playing.
She was sitting on the living-room rug, arranging wooden animals into a little family.
When she saw him, she quietly gathered them into a box.
"There's my favorite girl!" Vincent announced.
He bent down.
Lily moved behind Claire.
Vincent's smile faltered.
"Still shy?"
Claire gently placed a hand on Lily's shoulder.
"She's been having a difficult week."
Vincent looked at Claire.
"And you must be the famous nanny."
"Claire Bennett."
"I've heard about you."
Something in his tone made her uncomfortable.
"Hopefully nothing terrible."
He laughed.
"Only that my niece has become rather attached to you."
His eyes moved over her.
"Adrian has always had trouble finding people who can handle this family."
Before Claire could respond, Adrian entered the room.
"Vincent."
The brothers exchanged a handshake.
It looked friendly.
It wasn't.
"You're late," Adrian said.
"I was in New York."
"You were supposed to be here yesterday."
Vincent shrugged.
"Traffic."
Adrian's expression didn't change.
"Come to my office."
As Vincent passed Claire, he leaned slightly closer.
"Enjoy your position while it lasts."
Then he walked away.
Claire stared after him.
That evening, Mrs. Whitmore told Claire something that made her blood run cold.
"Mr. Vincent was the one who recommended the agency that hired you."
Claire turned.
"What?"
"Before you came here, Mr. Adrian specifically requested someone experienced with children who had experienced grief. Vincent said he knew an excellent agency."
Claire remembered her interview.
The agency had called her unexpectedly.
The job had seemed almost too perfect.
A private position.
Excellent salary.
A beautiful house.
A little girl who needed someone.
"Did Mr. Vincent know anything about me before I was hired?"
Mrs. Whitmore hesitated.
"I believe he had your application."
Claire's stomach tightened.
Why would Adrian's brother personally arrange her employment?
Later that night, Claire went to Lily's room.
The little girl was sitting on the bed, holding Rebecca's old tablet.
"Claire?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Uncle Vincent says Mommy was sick because she didn't listen."
Claire stopped.
"Did he?"
"He said she made Daddy sad."
Claire sat beside her.
"Your mommy wasn't responsible for being sick."
"But Uncle Vincent said—"
"Sometimes grown-ups say things they shouldn't. Your mother loved you very much. Nothing that happened was your fault."
Lily's eyes filled with tears.
"Can you sing the winter song?"
Claire nodded.
She began softly.
Halfway through, Lily reached for the tablet.
"Mommy sang this too."
Claire glanced at the screen.
An old audio file was open.
She recognized the recording.
Rebecca's voice filled the room.
But this time, Claire noticed something.
At the very end, after the lullaby stopped, Rebecca whispered:
"If anything happens to me, don't trust Vincent."
Claire stopped singing.
Lily looked up.
"What's wrong?"
Claire forced herself to smile.
"Nothing, sweetheart."
But her hands were shaking.
At midnight, Claire went downstairs.
She found Adrian in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water.
"Mr. Mercer."
He turned.
"You're supposed to be asleep."
"I heard something on Rebecca's recording."
Adrian set the glass down.
"What?"
Claire played the audio.
The lullaby ended.
Then Rebecca's voice.
If anything happens to me, don't trust Vincent.
Adrian didn't move.
The silence was terrible.
He listened again.
And again.
Finally, he closed his eyes.
"How long have you had that recording?"
"Lily has been listening to it for months."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know."
Adrian turned away.
His hand rested against the counter.
For a moment, Claire saw something beneath the intimidating businessman.
A husband who had spent a year mourning a woman who might have been murdered.
A father who had unknowingly allowed the person responsible to visit his daughter.
"Adrian," Claire said softly.
It was the first time she had used his first name.
He looked at her.
"Why would Rebecca say that?"
His voice was almost a whisper.
"Because she knew something about my brother."
At 1:13 a.m., Adrian received another message.
This one included a video.
The footage showed Rebecca entering St. Catherine's Hospital.
She looked healthy.
She was walking.
Laughing.
And holding a little girl's hand.
A little girl with dark brown hair.
A little girl who looked exactly like Lily.
But the date on the video was three months after the official date of Rebecca's death.
Adrian watched it twice.
Then he turned to Claire.
"Get Lily out of her bedroom."
"Why?"
"Because whoever sent this knows we're watching."
A loud crash came from upstairs.
Then a child's scream.
Adrian ran.
Claire followed.
Lily's bedroom window was open.
The curtains moved in the cold wind.
May you like
And on the bed lay a note.
Stop looking for the dead woman. She's closer than you think.
